our youth ought to cease to learn Greek. They do not learn it, the question is settled by the fact.” [Sidenote: Opinion of Masters in French _Lycées_.] [Sidenote: Mental Gymnastics.] With my deference on these questions to those who are accustomed to teaching, I have submitted M. Frary’s book (_La Question du Latin_) to two or three masters in _lycées_, and their answer to it is this. They say: “It is quite true that, considered as an acquisition, the Greek taught in _lycées_ does not count, and though Latin is learned much better the pupils gain a very small acquaintance with Latin literature, and that chiefly by fragments; nevertheless, we do unquestionably find that, as gymnastics, these studies cannot be replaced by anything else that we know of. There are now pupils who do not study Latin or Greek, and we find that when they are brought into contact with the others _on other subjects_ their intelligence seems undeveloped and inflexible. It is difficult, and often impossible, to make them understand things that are plain to the classical students.”[7] [Sidenote: Modern Languages.] [Sidenote: In French Public Schools.] [Sidenote: Quality of the Teachers.] [Sidenote: A Hatter.] [Sidenote: A Cook.] [Sidenote: Examination.] [Sidenote: Experience of F. Sarcey.] [Sidenote: The _École Normale_.] Here I leave this _Question du Latin_, regretting only that the quickened intelligence of classical students should fail to master their own particular study. The value of modern languages, as a discipline, cannot easily be ascertained, because they are rarely studied in that spirit. They have been systematically kept in a position of inferiority, by giving them insufficient time and by employing incompetent masters. They were established as a study in the French public schools by a royal ordinance, dated March 26, 1829, but M. Beljame[8] tells us that nothing was done to insure the competence of the teachers. These were picked up entirely by accident. “The masters of those days were generally political exiles, and even the best educated amongst them had never previously thought of teaching. When they were French no better qualifications were required. A member of the University told me that he had had for teachers of English in the State schools, first, the town hatter, who had a business connection with England, then the cook from the best hotel, who had exercised his art on the other side the Channel. These gentlemen were good enough to give some of their leisure moments to the University. No examination was required, either from foreigners or Frenchmen. Foreigners were supposed to know their language; as for the others, some functionary, usually quite ignorant of every European tongue, put the question, ‘Do you know German?’ or, ‘Do you know English?’ The candidate answered ‘Yes,’ and received at once the necessary authorisation.” Francisque Sarcey, in his _Souvenirs de Jeunesse_,